Love and duty
by st122
Summary: A short story about Galad and Berelain. Takes place near or just after the end of ToM.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N This idea had been floating about in my head for awhile. Finally got around to scribbling a few words down on paper between editing my HP/WoT crossover. Ok, not scribbling on paper, but you get the idea. So without any more discussion, here is my short Galad/Berelain fic. Hope you enjoy. _

_-edit- I have changed the last bit of the chapter. I agree with the comments that what I wrote was not something that would have happened. _

Galad sat within the safe confines of his tent. His back straight, eyes forward. The white cloak, a symbol of what he was, lay across the back of a chair. The grey morning air filtered through tiny holes in the material. The air was cool, but he did not dress. His mind too occupied to consider the cold.

A soft hand reached out, stroking his back. "Come back to bed," a gentle voice, which belonged to the hand, called to him. He turned, smiling down at the woman sharing his bed. Berelain, the First of Mayene. Her warm inviting eyes drew him in. Slowly, he lay back down to join her. His powerful arms encircled her frail body, drawing her in closer. Her pale skin felt warm against his icy body.

A tender hand moved towards her forehead, removing a stray hair that clung to her face, which was hiding her perfect features from him. "Do you fear the outcome of the coming meeting with the Dragon Reborn?" Galad asked. The question needed to be asked.

She appeared vulnerable. She displayed a side of herself to him, a side he had yet to see in public. In his bed, away from the world, she showed him the young girl she still was. "I fear for Mayene, I..." she looked up at him. Her face flushed in guilt, or embarrassment. Galad could not tell which.

He could feel her reluctance to answer. He knew the reasons. Berelain, cared for her country. She would do what was right for her people before she would look after herself. He smiled, even though inside his heart screamed in agony. "You fear an alliance with me... the Whitecloaks would place Mayene in danger."

She looked away, unable to face his him. Even in the dim light, he could see the faint reflection of tears rolling down her cheeks. "Galad... you know I..." her breath caught. Her body jerked slightly.

He rolled onto his side and pulled her back against him. "I love you too," he whispered, placing a kiss on her bare shoulder. The words he needed to say hurt. "But we must do what is best for your people."

She rolled over to face him again. Her beautiful eyes glistened with tears. "I love you as well, Galad Damodred." His lips touched hers. With time the kiss deepened. Through it all, he wondered at how much pain honest words of love could inflict.

/-/

Later that morning Galad and Berelain walked hand-in-hand through the forest outside Caemlyn They had been outside for hours already and still the sun had not risen far.

"How much longer will we have together?" she asked, wrapping herself around his arm.

"A day, maybe two," Galad sighed. He did not want to leave her, but a country as small as Mayene could not afford to be allied with a group such as the Whitecloaks.

"I would wish time to stand still. So we could spend it together." She let go, just enough to allow them to continue walking.

They had snuck away from the camp, leaving behind a very confused and by now angry group of Mayene soldiers. The letter she sent her commander would at least tell him she had not been taken.

"Light, why could I not be a normal woman? Could I not be some ordinary girl for you to sweep up in your arms?" She moaned. "Galad!" She yelped as Galad's arms swooped her off her feet and into his arms.

This close he could clearly smell the faint traces of her perfume. Her large eyes looked up into his, almost pleading. "I wish it were so. I wish I had not been a prince. I wish I did not wear this cloak. But the Wheel..."

"Shush," she whispered, placing a finger onto his lips to silence him. Her eyes sparkled. "We are out in the woods, alone. For now let us by just Berelain and just Galad."

"Yes," he whispered. "For now let's forget."

"Galad," her voice was low and seductive. A breath later, he was kissing her again. Yes, out here, they could leave the world behind and be the two people they were at heart.

A short walk later, they arrived at an open meadow, both still flushed. A blanket and a basket lay waiting for them. Once seated, Galad unpacked the contents. It was not much, some wine, cheese and bread. The simplicity, however, made the experience seem more real.

"Have you met the Dragon Reborn?" Berelain asked after taking a small sip of wine. The cheese and bread lay half-eaten to the side. "But I can't see when." She muttered as an after thought

The question took him slightly by surprise, but it was not unexpected. "I met him once, actually."

Her head snapped round in surprise. "Really?"

Galad laughed, but gave a nod. "There I was walking in the palace gardens, minding my own business, when I saw Elayne and Gawyn speaking to a stranger. I knew the man to be an intruder, especially after I confronted them. Concerned about their safety I hurried to call the palace guards." He chuckled. "If only we had known who he really was then."

"Oh," she was the only reply she made.

Galad took hold of her hand. "I am sure he holds no grudges against me for what I did." A faint smile graced her face and she leaned back against him.

"He reminds me of you," she said softly.

"In what way?" Galad asked stroking a hand through her long hair.

"I am not sure. There is something about the two of you that is similar," she replied. He did not question her further.

Silence fell over the two, a comfortable silence. Even the breeze fell still.

/-/

"Galad, we're travelling to the Fields of Merrilor today. Get your men ready," Perrin told Galad, when he returned to the camp.

Galad's heart sank, but he rallied himself. "As you command," he replied. The orders meant parting from Berelain. He did not like it, but he had sworn allegiance to Perrin. The large blacksmith nodded, before walking away.

Light, he wished he had not become a Whitecloak. He would have been on much better terms with the Dragon Reborn and the White Tower. With the strength of the Whitecloaks severely diminished by the battle a few days ago and their already despised image, he would be one of the least influential people at the meeting of leaders. His added service to Perrin only furthered his demise.

If the world were different, and he had found Berelain sooner, they would have been able to spend a lifetime together. Now all he had with her was stolen moments and evenings together. This close to Caemlyn, a place where news spread rapidly downriver, it was best he not spend time with her. Mayene would suffer, and they had to do what was right for Berelain's people.

"Child Bornhald," Galad called to a neatly dressed Whitecloak standing near his tent.

"Yes, Lord Captain," the man replied, straightening even more.

"Have the men dissemble camp. We leave before nightfall."

"Yes," the man nodded turning to leave. He stopped halfway. "Why?" he asked.

"We leave for the Fields of Merrilor where we are to meet with other leaders and the Dragon Reborn," Galad answered calmly. Bornhald frowned, and Galad could sense the man's unease. "The Light shall protect us, Child Bornhald."

"Of course," the Whitecloak replied hesitantly. "I would rather be as far from those witches as can be."

Galad's face remained impassive. His sister was an Aes Sedai or so she told the world. But that was from her mother's side. He at least had none of that blood running through him. "We need to work with them. Even if they make us uncomfortable."

The man fidgeted, but finally gave a curt nod. Staring at his retreating back, Galad felt himself growing uneasy with the men around him. When he first joined the Whitecloaks they appeared to be a bastion of Light in the world. Now, being in command, he realised how far the Children had fallen. As much as it hurt, he knew now the people's impressions of the Whitecloaks were not wrong. Between overzealous Children and Questioners the amount of innocent people condemned would never be known. Galad had the uneasy feeling the number of innocent men and woman killed by Children were far more than those who were guilty.

Perrrin was a prime example. Yes, the man had killed a few Children, but in defence. Others like Bornhold would deny the facts, but Galad saw clearly. Perrin was no darkfriend, even if those eyes of him still haunted Galad.

Galad made his way steadily through the camp. Far in the distance he could make out the figure of Berelain as she approached her own tent. Light he missed her. If the means were available he would...

"Galad," Perrin said suddenly from behind.

"Yes, Perrin," Galad replied turning quickly on his heels. His cloak lifted from the force, and his right hand moved rapidly settling comfortably on the hilt of his sword. The movement was quick and sharp. Perrin's eyes widened a fraction, before he laughed.

"Easy there," the blacksmith replied lifting his hands in the air. "You remind of Rand. Your movements always too graceful."

Galad frowned. Twice in one day he had been compared to the Dragon Reborn. "Pardon me," Galad replied, letting his hand drop from where it lay on his Heron Marked blade.

"Galad, I would like you to be with me when we meet Rand," Perrin began. "It would be good for the Whitecloaks to be seen among friends and not as a group apart."

Galad remained silent. The Whitecloaks needed to improve their image to the world at large. "I see... yes, it would be for the best. Thank you Perrin."

"Just see that your men behave themselves," Perrin said pointing at the large body of men behind Galad. Turning to face them, Galad watched as the organised men in white cleared the camp, a process that took less than an hour.

/-/

The inside of Galad's tent was cold. The evenings chilled rapidly these days. The food at least did not spoil anymore. The fact that it coincided with meeting up with Perrin did not go unnoticed. Despite the growing coldness, Galad felt warm. Berelain lay sleeping in his arms. Her soft rhythmic breaths warmed then chilled his skin where it touched him.

This was their last night together. When the sun rose, she would be the First of Mayene and he the Lord Captain Commander. They would be separated. His chest began to feel heavy. Losing her was almost the worst possible fate he could imagine. Unconsciously his arm gripped her tighter.

"Galad," she mumbled sleepily, awoken by the sudden force.

His gaze lowered. "I... I cannot lose you," he said suddenly. His voice filled with a strange conviction.

She sat up straighter. No doubt the tone of his voice made her realise something was wrong. Her soft hand rested on his shoulder the other on his exposed chest. "What is it Galad."

He held her eyes with his own. "Berelain, will you marry me."

"Yes," she said before she could catch herself. "But..." she frowned. "Yes... Yes!" she said more loudly. "Mayene can survive," she lowered her voice. "I will talk with the Dragon Reborn. He will help me."

Galad felt like shouting for joy. Instead, he lifted her from where she lay and brought her face up to his. "I love you. Light I love you."

Tears lined her cheeks. This time they were tears of joy, not sorrow.

/-/

Before the sun had risen, Berelain slipped out from under the covers where she had spent the night with Galad. Dressing quickly she ducked out of the tent. The morning air helped to clear her mind. With each stride she took her mind screamed at her. What had she agreed to? Yet inside she felt the warmth of Galad's eyes when he looked at her.

Two of her guards emerged out from the shadows where they had watched over her. She paid them little head. Before long she was inside her own camp. Once within her tent she found her dress for the coming day already laid out. Her maid would arrive soon enough to help her dress. The First had to look her best today.

She sat in the chair, which stood to the one corner. She felt giddy. She was engaged! Her mind spun trying to comprehend the decision she had made. She began to laugh, a true laugh. For the first time in years she had done something for Berelain, not Mayene. And honestly, she felt good. A weight dropped from her shoulders.

The laughter died down. Mayene. Could she do this to her country, her people. The marriage was not a death sentence, but it brought the headsman's axe a lot closer. Tear and Cairhen would try to pounce on her allegiance with the Whitetower. A lot hung in the balance. The most precarious was Galad's relationship with his half-sister Elayne. Rumour has it Elayne is not too fond of Galad. Would Elayne move against Galad in the near future. Berelain shook her head. No, for the moment, Mayene would be safe from Andor and Cairhen.

Tear, the old foe of Mayene was the city to watch. Things were highly unstable there – politically. She let out a long breath she had been holding. Galad was not the best man for her politically. But, she took a deep breath, she loved him.

She began to sob. Her face fell into her upturned palms. Why could things not be simple? Why could the man she loved not be some political giant?

And so she spent the few hours before sunrise. With the first rays of sunlight shining through a small partition in tent she made up her mind. She would go see the Dragon Reborn. For what, she did not know, but she knew she had to speak with him.

Getting to her feet she called her maid. She would need to see the Dragon Reborn today.

/-/

A large body of soldiers followed Berelain as she hurried as gracefully as queenly possible towards the tent of the Dragon Reborn. She still had not decided what to say, or even what Rand could do for her.

Reaching the tent she waited for the Aiel guards to announce her. It took only a few moments before the woman ushered her into the tent.

The harsh sunlight outside made the interior of the tent appear dark. "My Lord Dragon," she greeted differentially with a deep cursty. She could barely make out his shape.

"My Lady," he greeted with a bow in return. "What brings you here?"

His voice! He sounded so different, so old. "I..." she hesitated.

"Please, have a seat," he gestured for her to sit at a seat opposite the one where he stood.

"Ah... thank you my Lord," she said hurriedly. Taking him up on his offer she seated herself. He waited for her to be seated before he sat down himself. So, the boy had learned much since she last saw him.

Only then did she allow herself to look at him. She froze, his grey eyes held years in them. Years a man so young should not have. He looked patient, even though she knew him to be busy.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked. She declined, but appreciated the thoughtfulness. Rand was trying hard to make her comfortable. "Is this about what happened between us in Tear?"

"No!" she squeaked out. "No," she said more calmly. "This is... I am not sure how to begin this." He leaned back and waited. Min was scurrying about behind him, but Berelain ignored the woman.

"I," she blushed and Rand smiled. "I engaged to be married to the Lord Captain Commander of the Whitecloaks," she said hurriedly.

"Oh," Rand said leaning forward, interested. "I see." He said after a moment. "Such an alliance with them might not be beneficial for Mayene."

Berelain nodded slowly. "I have, yet, to meet the Lord Captain Commander."

"You've met Galad," she interjected quickly. She bit her lip, ashamed of her outburst.

"Galad!" Rand said loudly. Somewhere in the distance a trumpet sounded.

Fear filled her. The reaction to the name was stronger than she expected. "He is a good man," she defended finding her voice. Then Rand began to chuckle.

"Sorry," he said calmly and she felt herself relax under his soft gaze. "I did not mean to startle you. It's just. I knew him to be a Whitecloak, but not the Lord Captain Commander." She watched him frown. No doubt, he was wondering why no one had informed him.

Her breath caught. The light shone on his face just so and for an instant she could have sworn Galad was seated there instead of Rand. "Is something the matter?" Rand asked.

"No." She paused. Then she spoke without knowing why, the words just left her mouth. "You remind me of Galad. For an instant I almost thought it was him sitting there."

From behind Rand, Berelain noticed Min stopping moving. Her attention fully on the discussion.

Rand gave a thoughtful nod. "Yes, I can see why there might be a resemblance. Though you are only the second person to point it out."

"Someone else told you that you look like Galad?" Min asked from behind. The bundle in her arms dropped onto the bed.

Rand shook his head. "No," he laughed. "Dyelin once told me that I have a remarkable resemblance to Tigraine."

"I have heard people say Galad look likes his mother," Berelain said. She looked at Rand thoughtfully. "There is more to the tale than that."

He waved her off with a laugh. "This all beside the point." Berelain found herself staring into his penetrating gray eyes. "I will protect both you and Galad." She raised an eyebrow in question to his aid. Rand sighed, shaking his head. For a short moment he seemed unsure of how to continue. "I... I ower Galad this," he said finally. "It is the least I can do for all the pain I have caused him."

Berelain sat back. Apart from being the Dragon Reborn she was not sure what he could possibly have done to cause Galad pain. Then again the man before her was a mystery.

"Trust me," he said again. "I will not let Mayenne be controlled by her neighbours."

The finality in his voice made her believe. "Thank you, my Lord Dragon."

He stood and held his hand out to help her to her feet. "I think..." His words interrupted as a maiden entered the tent.

"There seems to be trouble with the Aes Sedai and the Whitecloaks." The tall Aiel woman said quickly.

"What kind of trouble?" Rand asked wearily. Like Berelain, it appeared as if trouble between the various groups was the last thing he wanted today of all days.

"They have taken the Lord Captain Commander," the woman replied.

Without making a reply, Rand exited the tent. His jaw was set and Berelain could barely keep up with him. What she saw nearly made her heart stop.

"Bloody hell!" Rand fumed. "What is Egwene thinking!"

_A/N Thanks for the comments so far. As I stated above, I changed the ending to this chapter. Hopefully it is a bit more believable than Rand telling her Galad is his brother._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N Here is the next chapter as asked. Hope you enjoy. I edited the chapter near the end. _

Galad woke slowly. His arm stretched out towards the far side of the bed. It fell on nothing but coldness. A groan, filled with frustration, escaped his lips. The separation had begun even before he said good-bye. He exhaled slowly while pushing his body upright. The blankets covering him fell to the floor.

One hand ran through the length of his hair. "Light, this is going to be a long day," he murmured softly to the inside of his tent. A small flame of hope burned in him that she might still be in his tent. He waited, feeling a fool, but no voice answered his own. The remaining light in him dimmed.

The tent swayed with the morning breeze blowing gently outside. The sound of voices filtered through the fabric. Yet, Galad sat motionless. By sheer will, he managed to pull his emotionally exhausted body from bed. His words of the night before and Berelain's answer echoed in his mind.

Moving about slowly, he prepared for the coming day. Galad was still the Lord Captain Commander. Dressed all in white, he spun to face the empty bed again. A disturbing question formed. Had the entire proposal been nothing more than a dream? He stood rooted to the ground. The whole memory was so vivid in his mind. Her absence, however, made him sure it had all been nothing more than a wonderful fantasy.

Finally, he attached the belt around his waist, which held his Heron Marked blade. He straightened his posture, once again appearing regal. He was the Lord Captain Commander and he had a duty to fulfil. Personal feelings and disasters aside, he had to lead his men to the Last Battle. Yet all he wanted was to be with Berelain. To feel her smooth skin against his own and listen to her musical voice as they laughed together. His lips tingled as they remembered the touch of her soft skin.

A small part of him broke. He sank down gracefully into the only chair inside the tent. Why could love and duty not live together? His life had never been fair. His mother had disappeared. His father had died when he was still young. Though Morgase had always been kind, he had never received much affection from her. He loved Gawyn and Elayne, but they never returned much. Gawyn had always idolised him too much and Elayne despised him in some way or another, mostly for the reasons Gawyn followed him around like a lost puppy. But even to Gawyn Galad had mostly been the annoying older sibling. Anger threatened to boil inside him. No, he had no reason to be angry with them. Galad had no right. They had not chosen to be his younger siblings by another woman. He calmed down. If a man stood next to Galad he would never have noticed the range of emotions Galad was going through.

Caemlyn had been a nice city, but everyone knew him to be a Damodred. The son of a Cairhien nobleman. His place had never been in the Palace with Morgase. Galad knew he should have left when his father passed away. He let out a growl in frustration.

Deep down he knew the cause of his problems – his mother. The questions haunted him. What happened to her? Why did she leave without even leaving a letter? Somehow his mind always whispered that he, her only son, was the reason for her running away. And so the question changed over the course of a day. What had he done to make her run away? In a way the question shaped his being, from then on he had always been sure to do what was right. If he always stayed true to that ideal then he could not blame himself.

He stood before striding out of the tent. His breathing became rapid, his chest tightened. Throwing back the flap of the tent, he inhaled deeply. The fresh morning air did wonders to clear his already strained mind. His eyes closed as he stood just outside. It took a number of controlled breathes before he finally managed to open them again. Few people were awake. The most movement came from the guards still patrolling between the tents. Men saluted as they passed. Their eyes betrayed their anxiousness. There was little doubt about who caused the tension. The thought made his head swivel involuntarily towards the large camp from Tar Valon on the far side of the field.

The day progressed slowly, as he suspected. He kept his mood from deteriorating, by working hard. Reading letters, writing letters, studying maps, giving orders and helping his men. Each activity flowed quickly into the next. He did not, nor wanted, the time to think about the beautiful woman who had stolen his heart. A stray thought of her eyes caused a quill to snap in his hand – his best quill. How could one woman cause so much joy and pain in the same breath?

Trumpets sounded. Leaders were meeting somewhere. Before Galad could think about who they were for, Bornhald brought Galad's cloak and silently helped him put it on neatly. Only with the cloak fastened did the man speak. "You have been summoned, My Lord," Bornhald spoke rapidly, the tension in his voice not missed by Galad. "By the witches," he added, spitting to the side.

"Thank you, Child Bornhald." Galad stepped into the sunlight. The position of the sun did little to make him smile. It had not even reached its zenith yet. Pushing his own emotions to the side, he began to walk. His hand rested easily on the hilt of his words. Its presence comforted him even though he knew it to be of little use against Aes Sedai.

Between the two camps sat a delegation. Even from afar, Galad could make out the arrogant postures of the women. Most Whitecloaks disliked Aes Sedai for their ability to channel, Galad held a more practical dislike. He knew enough of them to know they were not darkfriends. No, they were not dark, they just bullied and manipulated people. And that was something he never thought right.

The distance kept closing. The grass beneath his feet was soft and green, something rare these days. The unnatural circle of clear sky above being another wonder. Galad was sure it had to do with the Dragon Reborn.

Some of the men standing with the Aes Sedai wore cloaks of black. Asha'man. Sudden fear sparked and then vanished. He had to remind himself that the taint was gone, or so Perrin said. A few strides further the tight grip around his sword handle lessoned. He had not noticed it tightening.

Galad settled into the void. The Oneness of a blademaster. Emotions ebbed away. The word seemed clearer and the faint buzzing of life reached his ear. He needed to be calm and in control. The future of the Whitecloaks depended on his abilities to work with the Aes Sedai. They needed his guidance to see the better side of the organisation. Perhaps he would finally get aid from Elayne. He could see her standing behind a woman with a seven striped shawl – The Amyrlin. With her there, the meeting might go well.

Walking the last few hundred paces alone, he could not help but glance around. He wished Berelain were with him. She was the First of Mayenne after all, her support would go a long way to further his cause. Mayenne was a small country, but an independent country nevertheless. That in itself was more than the Whitecloaks could say.

Nearing the gathering he passed by a mass of Aes Sedai, warders, Asha'man and other people. Some of them might even have been nobles. Strangely, the mood seemed a bit off for a mere meeting. He pushed the thoughts aside. Eventually, Galad arrived before the Amyrlin. He knew the Amyrlin to be Egwene, yet seeing it firsthand still shocked him. Strangely he had still expected Elaida, it had been difficult to believe the news he heard. "My Lady." He greeted with a low bow. Only then did he allow himself a proper look at the woman. Within the void he showed no surprise at seeing Egwene sitting before him. The girl sat like a queen, the fire in her eyes demanded respect. He dismissed them. Like Perrin, she would have to earn his respect.

"My Lord Captain Commander," she replied with a slight nod of her head. Deep within he felt outrage. His rank not only within the Whitecloaks, but as a prince of Andor deserved more than a curt nod from the woman. The Oneness alone kept him in check. With great effort he reigned in all his emotions.

"You summoned me, My Lady," he continued keeping his voice level. He would maintain proper respect no matter what she did. Egwene frowned, as if she had expected something more form him. He would not give in to what was blatant disrespect.

"I... yes," she caught herself. Those eyes of her went slightly wide before hardening again. Though a hint of frustration crept through. "I did not expect to see you as Lord Captain Commander, Galad. I heard of course, but hearing is not quite believing."

He fought hard to remain in control once again. Galad! He fumed she dared call him by his first name before commoners during a delegation. She was not Perrin, a blacksmith leading a small band of men. Egwene was the Amyrlin Seat, ruler of the most influential power. "Likewise, My Lady," he answered. His voice gave no hint at his internal monologue of disgust.

Neither said anything more. Elayne shuffled nervously about, her eyes glancing to the side. Galad followed her gaze and his eyes fell on a tall handsome man in a Warder's cloak standing behind Egwene – Gawyn Trakand. Galad's eyes flicked down to Egwene, missing nothing. What was the world coming to? An inn keepers daughter became Amyrlin and bonded his half-brother. Galad's expression never changed, though his knees began to feel weak. All of a sudden support from his family did not seem likely.

Slowly Egwene unrolled an official parchment. Galad had seen the like before. He shivered and his skin prickled. Her voice reverberated across the field. Murmers from the growing crowd died down as people listened. "As decreed by the White Tower and numerous rulers of this land. We hereby declare the Lord Captain Commander of the Whitecloaks guilty of..."

Galads mind began working over time. The words of Egwene washed over him. The guilt was not his. He had done nothing wrong. Nothing since the day his mother left. He paused, did it all come down to that day.

_A small boy sat by the fountain outside the Palace in Caemlyn. He was playing merrily with the water. His eyes sparkled with mischief. No passerby would have been able to tell he was plotting. His face was placid though his mind was busy planning an outing into the kitchens to steal food. The last time had not gone well, his backside still burned from the hiding he received. His mother had been enraged. Her reaction was a little over the top for mere thievery. Thinking back, the punishment might have been for one of numerous other misdeeds. He had lost count this week. Galad shrugged, he did not mind, it was fun breaking the rules, getting caught only served to teach him caution. _

_Even at such a young age, Galad commanded respect. Voices whispered of his bright future. They had since the day he was born. His mother was Daughter Heir of Andor, his father a senior member of the Damodred family. A perfect political union._

_Trumpets blasted behind him. Soldiers began shouting. Chaos erupted around the courtyard. The boy stood. His eyes calmly scanned the commotion, seeking opportunities. Misleading guards or tripping them were favourite pastimes of his. Youth did not stop him, however, from realising something was very wrong. Ideas of tripping men with strings or branches vanished. _

_Jumping down from where he stood he ran towards the throne room. His mother or grandmother would be there. Still running he nearly barrelled into Gitara Moroso, the Queens advisor. Looking up he froze. Her expression both chilled and saddened him._

"_Somethings," she began, "are meant to be." Her hand rested gently on his shoulder and then she moved away. The woman halted, her eyes distant. "What your mother did will save you one day." He stared after her for a few moments, shaking his head. Then he ran, her words forgotten._

_The throne room was a mass of moving bodies and loud voices. "She is gone!" a single voice cried out over the noise. It was his grandmother. "She is gone!" she wailed again and Galad pushed his way through the crowd. He wanted to be with her. _

_Only when he reached the far side did he see the Queen for the first time. His breath caught. She appeared to have aged a hundred years. Her face was gaunt and tears lined her cheeks as she sat crying. Galad willed himself to move. He jumped into her lap and her arms pulled him in close. He still did not know what was going on, but he knew his grandmother needed him. He barely noticed his father pacing up and down nervously, though he did not look upset._

"_What's happening, grandma?" he asked with his soft high pitched boys voice._

"_Your..." Her hand trembled. Long fingers worked their way through his longish hair. "Your mother is gone."_

_It took a few hours for the realisation to fully dawn on him. By that time he was sitting in his own bedroom. Tears never came, nor anger as he sat. By the end of a long day, he knew she had run away because she hated him. All his fooling around caused her too much pain. It was all his fault, even his parents' lack of love for each other was because of him. He rolled onto his stomach, hiding his face in his pillow. Only then with night falling over Andor did he allow tears to escape. Not even the memories of his mother laughing and playing happily with him in the gardens helped. Soon those images became buried deep within._

_Crying himself to sleep, alone in a world suddenly unfriendly, he vowed to never do something wrong again. His boyish trouble making had caused so much suffering._

He stood apart, and the other people whispered quietly among themselves. He made as if he did not notice, but a large number of people stared in his direction. Of course they would be judge him. Egwene was still speaking. "... The punishment... death by execution."

Galad's only reaction was to stare at his supposed family. They did not move or blink. However, neither met his gaze. Shame was written over their faces. "I see," Galad began slowly. Slowly his hands moved towards his belt, undoing it. "I see I have little choice in this matter. My men will not be harmed I suppose?"

By her expression he knew she disliked what was happening. Then Egwene nodded. "The punishment is on the Lord Captain Commander not the Whitecloaks."

"I see," his voice slow and thoughtful. There was little to live for anymore. His mother gone, his brother and sister turned against him, maybe not be choice. He hoped they had at least fought for his innocence before this meeting. Berelain was gone as well, his position in life to low for her country. The sword dropped to the ground. The noise of its falling reverberated in his mind. A headsman's axe could not have sounded worse. Galad lived alone, he supposed it was only fitting he died alone. Gawyn moved to collect it. "I doubt you deserve the blade," Galad said calmly when his half-brother took it. "Being a blademaster is more than wielding a sword."

Gawyn looked up sharply. His eyes slightly watery. "What would you know!" Gawyn snapped back. Galad did not reply. This was hurting Gawyn more than Galad had thought at first. Gawyn took two strides and turned to look at Galad. The eye contact was brief, but at least Galad could see the pain in their depths. A moment later Galad jerked, various flows, from the Aes Sedai, wrapped around him.

He should have been outraged. He was a royal member of Andor, the Lord Captain Commander. Besides being an honourable man, the titles he held alone should have ensured that he not be tied down. He should have shouted and demanded justice. No sound escaped his mouth. Gawyn cried out in outrage. The shouts landed on deaf ears. The stern faced Aes Sedai merely stirred murderously at Gawyn and then Galad. The look in their eyes told him what he knew already, just like he had known with the Questioners, there was no point in fighting. The majority of the Aes Sedai and the influential leaders of the world had judged him guilty of crimes he did not commit and nothing he could say or do would change their minds.

His only regret was that he did not have Berelain here with him. "My Lady," he called to Egwene. "My I beg one last request."

"That will depend on the request, Galad," she replied.

"Would you tell the First of Mayenne that I am sorry." Egwene nodded sadly and he bowed his head.

Elayne clutched the chair behind Egwene tightly. Her knuckles were white from force. She blinked back her tears. She spoke softly, but her voice carried towards him. "This is a mistake, Egwene." Her eyes opened wide. "This is a big mistake, Egwene. He is angry, very."

Egwene did not respond. The only sign she heard was the crease on her forehead deepening. "You can still stop this Egwene."

Muttered whispers sounded pleased. "Told you he was guilty, needing to apologise to royalty and all!" People mumbled agreement and several laughed. Let them laugh, he thought.

"The hand of the Creater shall shelter me and be my judge and when he finds me worthy he shall shelter me in his hands." He whispered softly to himself. Somehow he knew the words to be the truth. A warmth flooded over him. A presence he had never felt before touched him. His head swivelled slightly, drawn to the far side of the field. His eyes settled on a single unfamiliar tent. The tent flaps opened.

His body lurched as the Aes Sedai began dragging him. Their flows turned him away from the tent and his eyes lifted to a raised platform. A man stood ready with a long sword "I am sorry for leaving you, Berelain," he spoke softly. Hoping his words would reach her.

All around masses of people began to laugh and cheer. Several men and women moved forward to spit at him. Rude gestures and foul language flew in his direction. Galad focused on the flame and the void. Within its safe confines, he relaxed, all things external could be ignored.

His knees crashed to the floor and his head settled down on a block. The noise calmed down. Kneeling there, the only emotion he felt was regret. Regret that he would never see Berelain again. Then he smiled, perhaps now he would be able to see his mother again. He laughed, perhaps she might even send him some help. Strangely, the last words Gitara spoke to him echoed in his mind.

Egwene lifted a hand and Galad waited. For what he did not know, but he waited.

_A/N Ok, sorry for the cliffhanger (not really, but hey) will try to get the next one up as soon as possible. Thanks for reading and as always please leave a comment or two or three. They make my day!_

_Thanks for all the comments. I have already made some changes. Please keep them coming. I am not spending too much time plotting. So if something is out of place please tell me._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N Made some edits. My word processor merged a few words together (Track changes). I tried to separate them all, but I might have missed some, sorry about that. Nevertheless, hope you enjoy. _

Moiraine silently slipped through the growing crowd forming around a single tent in the middle of the field. From the quiet murmurs going around she knew the Amyrlin Seat to be judging thought of Egwene as Amyrlin had surprised Moiraine when Mat told her. Then the more she thought about it, the more she came to terms with the idea. She had always known the girl to have the potential, just not at such a young age.

Walking through the mass of bodies, the Aes Sedai around Moiraine neither looked in her direction nor made any comments. The fact both infuriated and pleased Moiraine at the same time. A few months back nearly every head would have turned when they sensed her power. Not that she liked the attention, on the contrary, but her power did give her authority, which was always beneficial. If she wanted the attention then the small angreal bracelet in her pocket could be used. At the moment, however, anonymity was exactly what she wanted.

Mat and Thom walked somewhere behind her. The occasional mutterings coming from Mat told her as much. The man, she could hardly see him as a boy anymore, still felt slightly uncomfortable with his missing eye, and so he hid behind the hood of his cloak. He had surprised her the most of the three ta'veren. Even if all of Mat's stories about Rand and Perrin were to be believed, Mat still went the furthest of the three. She had known Rand would follow his destiny, he was the Dragon Reborn after all and Perrin had a good head on his shoulders. Faile would have kept him in line, while she plotted to improve her husband's standing. Mat on the other hand had been nothing more than a little scoundrel. She could not deny she would miss the boys' youthful ignorance of the world. All three had grown old too quickly.

Moiraine desperately wanted to speak to Rand. This growing crowds, however, drew her attention. A gathering such as this meant something important. The crowd grew more dense nearer the front and the Egwene's voice grew steadily louder. Not wanting to hold onto saidar, Moiraine heard little of what the woman said. "Lan would be useful know," she muttered under her breath as she shouldered her way past another tall man.

"... Death by execution." Egwene proclaimed. They were the first words Moiraine heard. A feeling of wrongness passed over her. The sky darkened a fraction and the breeze began to pick up. Lifting her skirt, she bustled through people with renewed vigour.

"Serves the fool right. Never trusted Whitecloaks myself." A woman spoke loudly to a man beside her.

"That you did, my dear" The man next to her replied with anexaggerated nod.

Up ahead people were jeering and mocking. The dynamic of the crowd told her the person was being dragged away from where the Amyrlin sat. She lifted her eyes, where they fell upon a raised execution block. The growing unease within her intensified. She cursed her short stature. Lan would definitely have been useful.

With a final push, she broke through the last line of people. What she saw shook her. A man pushed Galad down onto his knees before a block. The insignia he wore proclaimed him Lord Captain Commander. Galad did not surprise her. His persona had always pushed him to the men in white. For some reason she approved, Galad was what the Whitecloaks needed to get them back in line. What angered her was the fact that Elayne and Gawyn stood there not willing to put an end to this nonsense. Light! And she had called the three boys from Emonds Field fools. The Lord Captain Commander could not be judged like this. Besides, Galad would never knowingly do anything wrong. Even now kneeling on the platform he upheld his values. She was not even taking in Galad's relationship with Rand into account.

"Elayne!" Moiraine spoke loudly. Egwene sat up drawn to her the use of her first name. Her eyes widened, though her expression quickly morphed back into Aes Sedai impassiveness. Then her hand waved and the executioner halted. Lowering his sword he moved away from Galad. "By the Light, what are you doing?"

Egwene's back stiffened at the reprimand. "We are doing what should have been done years ago. The Whitecloaks need to be stopped. The leaders of the world agree and so we have deemed it necessary to..."

Her words were cut off by Moiraine. "Did you think? No, you did not by the looks of things. How could you think murdering Galad would stop the Whitecloaks. Light, he is the best thing to have happened to them."

Elayne and Egwene bristled with anger and maybe a hint of embarrassment. "How dare you speak..." Egwene's shout was interrupted.

"Moiraine!" A loud voice called from her right. She spun, only one man had such a voice. Though it sounded different.

Turning she faced Rand who came towards her rapidly. Berelain and Min followed close behind. A pair of Maidens flanked the group. Moiraine almost smiled, at least some things were still the same.

"Rand, how dare you interrupt me like that!" Egwene demanded petulantly.

Rand stopped and Moiraine feared an outburst from the young man. To her surprise, he calmly turned to face the Amyrlin. His eyes remained on Moiraine. He could not get enough of seeing her. It was only then that Moiraine really began to feel his presence. The world seemed brighter around Rand. His eyes, which had been impressive before, held years a man so young should not have.

Slowly he swivelled his face to look at Egwene. The world fell silent. He sighed and began in a calm voice. To Moiraine it sounded like he was speaking to a child. "When fools are left to their own devices then I dare to interrupt. When fools plot and scheme to the ruin of us all then I dare to interrupt. When girls gossip and make choices based on hearsay then I dare to interrupt." His voice remained calm as he patiently began to put Egwene in her place. Moiraine stifled a laugh. Behind her Mat sniggered loudly. A few heads turned and so did Moiraine's. Mat pulled his hood tighter over his face and fell silent.

Egwene stood from her seat. "I am the Amyrlin Seat and you shall respect me and my position Rand!" she said heatedly to Rand. Despite her growing frustration, she managed to sound composed, a true Aes Sedai.

"Respect is not something gained by being raised to a certain rank." Rand explained slowly again. Moiraine could see the anger building within Egwene. Nearly all the Aes Sedai appeared to be as insulted if not more, and every last one embraced the source. "Now free the Lord Captain Commander."

Cries of outrage and dismay ran through the Aes Sedai and the watching people. Egwene stood, her entire body language spoke of fury, the Aes Sedai cool near breaking. Then there was Rand who continued to surprise Moiraine. There were over a hundred women who could channel standing around him, obviously petrified and infuriated, and yet he casually turned his back on Egwene and closed the distance to Moiraine. He believed his demand would be adhered. Looking at the boy made her smile. His eyes had grown old and wise, but beneath it all he smiled and the joy reached those ancient eyes.

"Moiraine Sedai," he said again. He stopped a pace before her and gave a graceful bow. "Light, it is good to see you again."

"I am glad to be back, Rand Al'Thor," she replied, giving a bow in return. With a swift stride he closed the gap and lifted her in the air, laughing. Before she knew how or why, she was laughing as well. Everything around and about him felt right. No darkness or wrong could survive so close to him.

"I missed you and your council," he said when he finally placed her back on the ground.

"You seem to have done well without me." Rand grimaced and his eyes grew haunted.

"The road has not been easy and without you I fear it was much longer and harder than it should have been." She did not know how to reply. Instead, she did the one thing that went against everything she had always done, yet it felt pulled him into a hug. Her head barely reached his chest. "Thank you, Moiraine Sedai," he whispered to her.

She fought back tears. "It's my pleasure and duty, Sheepherder," she smiled using Lan's words. The crowd around them gasped at the supposed insult.

Rand laughed richly. When he calmed, his eyes grew serious. "Moiraine, would you do me the honour of holding Callandor with Nynaeve and myself when I go to Shayol Ghul?" This was said softly so only Moiraine could hear.

"It would be an honour," she replied. At her words, a weight seemed to drop from his shoulders.

"Thank you. You do not know what a relief your return is for me." His words were said with such sincerity and obvious tiredness that Moiraine truly began to understand what he had been going through. Here was a man trying to save the world and he could not trust the Amyrlin Seat, a woman he had once thought to marry nor any other woman except his old Wisdom.

"I made an oath to you, but even had I not, I would be there for you." He nodded at her words.

"Will the two of you stop talking to yourselves. Will you disrespect the Amyrlin Seat even more!" Egwene shouted. "You dare to come here and make demands of me!"

"Keep quiet, fool girl!" a new voice spoke up from the crowd. People parted around the woman who had spoken. Cadsuane. Egwene's mouth worked furiously. "I think it is you who should show proper respect."

"I will not show respect to some foolish boy who thinks he knows how to save the world."

"Boy! You call him a boy when he is my senior," Cadsuane spoke firmly. "Do you know who you are talking to? This boy," she pointed at Rand. "Is the only man among us who has been officially raised an Aes Sedai. He wore the Ring of Tamyrlin. Egwene, it is you who should be showing proper respect."

"That is nonsense, who could believe such nonsense!"

Queen Tenobia stepped away from the crowd. She was quickly followed by all the leaders of the Borderlands. "I believe." They chorused together. Egwene's stood stunned.

Gathering herself she stared them down saying, "You have all been fooled!"

"Silence!" Rand bellowed. It was the first time Moiraine had seen him angry. A faint shadow seemed to fall over the land for a moment, then it lightened again. Everyone, including Moiraine, shivered. "Now, would you please let the man go or do you want me to walk up there to bring him down myself?" His tone held a touch of amusement at the idea.

"I will not, and you will not!" Egwene replied with a rigid back. Her jaw was set in determination. Her tone was such that Moiraine frowned when Egwene did not stamp her feet in indignation. The girl was a tough one when she wanted to be, but still a village girl.

Rand snorted softly, before he turned casually to Berelain. "Shall we?" Moiraine glanced at Rand who waggled his eyebrows at the three women with him. He clearly enjoyed all of this. Egwene did not realise the size of the mountain she had tried to overcome. To fight Rand she would have needed to be harder than Cuendillar.

Berelain nodded nervously, her eyes scanning the Aes Sedai around her. It was the first time Moiraine gave the woman more than a glance. The First of Mayenne seemed oblivious to Rand's power. Her presence with Rand was still not clear to Moiriane, but Berelain stared up fearfully at Galad. The pieces fell into place and Moiraine knew something had developed between the pair.

"Yes," Berelain answered softy. Then ignoring everyone, Rand together with Berelain and Min, walked up the platform. Moiraine waited for the resulting explosion from the Aes Sedai, none came. Brilliant auras shone from each. Each women held as much of the One Power as they could manage, and still they did nothing to stop the group approaching Galad. Perhaps they could, Moiraine wondered.

All eyes were upon the trio as they made their way up. Egwene stood unable to do anything. The look on the girls face made it all worth it in Moiraine's mind. She had liked Egwene, but doing things so wrong just to gain support was not something she had thought possible of her. Then again, Egwene had been ruthless and had lied for a long time to the Wise Ones. The thought begged the question. Had Egwene even told the Wise Ones? Moiraine would have to remember to ask. Perhaps she should ask a Wise One, she thought with a smile.

Turning her attention away from Egwene, Moiraine studied Rand again. He had reached Galad and was busy helping him to his feet. Berelain moved in and wrapped herself around Galad. The kiss they shared was nothing short of scandalous. Moiraine almost cheered, though she did smile. Galad deserved someone who loved him. For Berelain to kiss a man, especially a Whitecloak, so publically definitely meant she loved him.

A few quiet words were spoken before they descended. Rand led the group towards Moiraine. "Care to join us for a short while?" He asked when they returned. "Mat and Thom can come as well."

"What!" Mat shouted. "You knew I was there and you said nothing! Blood and Ashes, Rand."

"Good to see you too, Mat," Rand laughed.

"Yeah, you too," Mat grumbled falling in step alongside Rand. He made no comment about Mat's face being hidden by a hood. The way Rand touched his missing hand made her think he knew about Mat. She would have to ask Rand about how he lost his hand and how he knew about Mat's eye. Perhaps Mat's ramblings of visions about Rand when he thought about him were true. It was so difficult with Matrim to know when he spoke the truth. Then again, he had done nothing since her rescue to make her believe he lied. However, he begged Moiraine to keep his marriage a secret. When she agreed she began wondering about what other secrets the man kept?

"Elayne, Gawyn, your welcome to join us as well," Rand spoke loudly in order for his voice to reach the Amyrlin Seat. Egwene stood to follow. "I did not say you could come, Egwene," he placed emphasis on her name. "This does not concern you."

"Of course it concerns me. I am the White Tower. I am the Amyrlin seat," she replied haughtily.

"Precisely, this has nothing to do with you."

Egwene sat down again. Trying her best to look dignified. The only visible sign of distress were her faintly red cheeks. "Very well, we will be waiting for you to return."

"Of course," Rand replied and then he left. The crowd parted before him and the group followed in silence. Moiraine had an inkling as to what Rand wanted to discuss.

Inside Rand's tent they all made themselves comfortable. Moiraine was about to relax fully for the first time since going through the ter'angreal when the tent's flap opened. Nynaeve stepped through. It took a moment for the Wisdom's eyes to adjust to the dark interior. When they did, her eyes opened wide in horror.

"Lan's mine!" Were the first words to leave her mouth. "You cannot take him from me!" She cried out in near hysteria. "Rand, she cannot."

Moiraine stood calmly from where she sat on the floor. "I am not here to take Lan. He is yours and has been since the day he first saw you in Emonds Field."

Nynaeve looked perplexed. Then she sagged under the relief. "You don't know what that means to me, Moiraine Sedai," she replied. Before Moiraine could react, the former Wisdom wrapped her arms around Moiraine and began to cry into her shoulder. "The guilt, knowing he was supposed to be yours..." she sobbed.

"It's alright Nynaeve. Lan had never been mine. He is his own man, he was my Warder to fight the Dark One. I would have passed the bond to you on the day you became an Aes Sedai." She pulled back slightly, looking Nynaeve up and down. "You are an Aes Sedai, aren't you?"

Nynaeve snorted in disgust, "I am an Aes Sedai."

"Nynaeve," she said, getting the woman's attention. "I would never do anything to hurt Lan. Withholding his freedom and his choice to be yours would have destroyed him in the end." Nynaeve made no reply.

When they moved apart Nynaeve finally took in the others in the room. "Matrim Cauthon! Remove that stupid hood from your face this instant! Your inside and among friends."

"Leave him be," Rand spoke quietly from the corner where he sat watching Nynaeve and Moiraine. "He will remove it when he's ready."

The inside of the tent fell silent. Rand was the centre of attention. Min and Elayne were close by him, both trying hard not to hate the other. Gawyn stood erect, and still angry at the way Rand treated his sister and Egwene, his Aes Sedai, whom Moiraine could only guess would be his wife soon. Mat sat hunched as far away from anyone as he could, Thom sat next to him though. Nynaeve and Moiraine stood in the middle of the tent, Nynaeve's one arm still around Moiraine's waist.

Finally, Galad entered the tent with Berelain. He had gone to the Whitecloak camp to ensure them he was not harmed. The men had apparently gotten ready for a battle. Thank the Light everything had been sorted out before they could get ready or before Galad had been executed. Moiraine, could only shake her head and wonder what had gotten into Egwene's head to go through with such idiocy.

"We are all here, finally," Rand said at last, breaking the spell within the room. "Firstly, I want to congratulate Galad and Berelain with their engagement." Gawyn and Elayne recoiled in surprise.

"Your engaged?" Elayne asked getting to her feet.

"Yes, Elayne. I am engaged to Berelain," he answered his half sister slowly. From where Moiraine stood, she could see his hands tighten around the sword, which had been returned to him.

"Well congratulations, Galad," Gawyn said moving to shake Galad's hand. Galad took his hand reluctantly. "About earlier... You know I would never do anything to harm you personally. Elayne and myself, we tried to help, but the opposition was to strong. There was nothing we could do."

"I understand," Galad said softly. There was a hint of disgust in his voice. "Thankfully I have other family to help me."

"Other family, as in Moiraine?" Elayne asked pointing a finger at Moiraine. "She merely delayed things till Rand saved you." Moiraine spared her a glare and the Queen of Andor wilted under Moiraine's scrutiny.

"Yes, my other family saved me." Galad said again. For the briefest of moments his eyes flicked towards Rand and he nodded. The look went unnoticed by those standing.

"Blood and Bloody Ashes!" Mat exclaimed. "Your Rand's brother! Light, burn me!"

"Thank you for revealing everything so tactfully, Mat," Moiraine laughed. The rest of the room remained silent.

_A/N Hope you enjoyed the chapter. So what do you guys and girls want from the next chapter. Caemlyn... Saenchen invasion... Please take the time to comment and crit. Thank you_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N Sorry for the wait. I have been very busy lately. Most of my writing time has gone into a Darker Shade of Light Part II, which is now 70k words long, and probably much better than this little story. _

_Thank you very much to all of you that commented on the previous chapters. They really do help to keep me motivated. As always comments and crits are most welcome, so make a list as you read. __J_

_So onto another instalment of this story. I wrote it in two hours, read through it twice, so please excuse any typos. Most of all I hope you enjoy it. _

The silence hanging in the air dragged on. Galad stood motionless looking at Rand and he in turn watched his half-brother. Elayne's mouth opened and closed a few times and each time it appeared like she wanted to speak, but then it closed without a sound. Gawyn shifted his weight uneasily. Nynaeve let go of Moiraine, while her head spun between Galad and Rand. Min goggled at Rand. The only people not affected were Moiraine and Thom. Moiraine had known of course, and Thom always had a way of knowing such things. The tent felt alive with tension and Mat wanted to laugh, despite the pain radiating from where his eye had been.

Eventually he had enough of all the staring and weight shifting. "Get over yourselves, people!" Mat cried out getting to his feet. "Rand is Rand and Galad is Galad. They are related like you are related to Galad, Elayne," he scowled in her direction. Her pouting face was working on his nerves.

She glared at him, but before another remark could escape his mouth the world erupted around them. Warning trumpets began to blow. First a few distant calls and then closer more urgent notes joined in. The dice began to rattle in his mind causing Mat to curse.

Galad closest to the tent flap, left first. Rand a man perpetually alert followed his brother closely. Mat shook his head, now that he knew he noticed the uncanny resemblance between the pair. Not their looks, Rand was too much the Aielman for them to look alike. The similarities lay in their mannerisms, the way they reacted and spoke. On closer reflection there was something about their faces, a little of their mother perhaps. There existed in them a bearing of royalty. Mat choked, their mother was Andor royalty. Another curse rolled of his tongue.

The trumpets continued to sound outside. The rest of the tent's inhabitants were outside before he reacted. Those were alarms. Instincts took over and he left the tent.

The light outside burned his eye, since the interior of the tent had been dark. Squinting through his single eye he cursed his vision. The world felt flat and he found it difficult to judge distances. The relative size of people and tents alone allowed him to have any sense of distance. As he squinted, Moiraine gave him an apologetic but thankful smile. Mat nearly stumbled; he could hardly remember the woman smiling.

"Light," Galad whispered softly. "That must be nearly forty thousand men up there." Mat's eye followed the Lord Captain Commanders gaze. His heart sank. In the distance, on a hill overlooking the entire camp, stood an army. He did not need a second eye to know who the foe was. The Saenchen. The dice grew more insistent, almost as if a second die had been added.

"Bloody and bloody ashes!" Mat cried out. "That woman will be the death of me yet!"

All eyes turned to him, but quickly their minds turned to more pressing matters than the ramblings of mad Matrim Cauthon.

"We need to organise the defense," Rand spoke urgently to Galad and Elayne. Together they held a large part of the camps strength in arms. Gawyn listened, though he did not command any forces, he had the ear of the Amyrlin.

Mat rolled his eye at the thought of Egwene. A part of him could scarcely believe how arrogant she'd become. The other, more dominant, part had always known that she would become like this. The girl had always been far too determined and ambitious for her own good.

Galad seemed uneasy and his voice sounded unsure as he spoke to Rand. "Could you not perhaps use… use your abilities to keep them at bay?"

Rand shook his head adamantly. "I cannot use my strength in such matters. I will be needing all my strength in the next few days."

"Perhaps the Whit…" Thom began, but was cut-off by his bride to be. Mat snorted at the pair.

"Will not help, Thom. You know they will never attack unless we can prove the Seanchen to be darkfriends."

"They are close enough to be!" Elayne said in disgust.

Moiraine gave the girl a withering stare. "They might be misguided and enemies, but they are not darkfriends."

Elayne did not let Moiraine's words deter her. "I'd hang anyone associated with them. If they dare set foot in Andor, I'll kill them all myself. Don't you remember what they did to the White Tower?"

"That does not matter Elayne," Moiraine replied calmly. "Attacking us does not make them darkfriends. Next you will attack the Lord Captain Commander next to you because Whitecloaks attack Aes Sedai." Elayne glared at Moiraine and then at her half-brother. "If you do what you suggest, then I'm afraid you'll be as bad as Egwene when she tried to have Galad executed."

Mat felt distinctively uncomfortable.

"All this talk is not helping," Galad pointed out calmly. "What we need to do is get our armies moving. Are you with me in this?" He asked the group, but his half-sister most of all. They nodded. "Elayne, if you can lead you're army to that crest over there." He pointed to a defensible hill to the west of the camp. "I will take my men and those of Perrin Aybarra to the east."

Mat glance at the two points. If the remaining men at arms, or even the Aiel with Rand, lined up between the two points then it would prove extremely difficult for the Saenchen to overwhelm the camp.

Then as stubborn and haughty as ever, Elayne refused. "I will not be led about by the Lord Captain Commander. I am the Queen of Andor, I am the superior." It came as no surprise that she sounded like a spoilt little girl.

Galad took her reversal calmly, but fire burned in his eyes. "Elayne…" She turned away and began to walk towards her camp.

"Light burn that woman!" Berelain seethed. Mat could not agree more with the First of Mayenne's comment. "At least you have my guards." Galad placed a soothing hand on her arm and the woman seemed to relax.

Galad had proven himself as worthy a commander as he was a blademaster. Mat himself could not have placed their men in better positions. With Andor's army lined up on that hill, they would have commanded the plains below. Their archers, well defended by strong spearmen, would be able to provide withering cover fire for their allies. Their strong cavalry would then have free reign to hastle the Saenchen at their lesure before returning to the safety of the hill.

The Whitecloaks on the other side, in a much weaker postion would probably feel the brunt of the Seachen attack. It was a courageous decision, one that proved his worth. The Children, though few in number, were well armed and disciplined. The Two Rivers longbow men would be able to provide a steady yet deadly reign of arrows. Yes, Mat thought, that corner of the battlefield would be bloody, but the Children should be able to hold. And if they held, then the Seachen would become exposed.

"I wish I could provide you my crossbowmen, but they are still outside Caemlyn." Mat spoke aloud at Galad. "Your position will be tenuous at best, but if you hold then the battle will be ours."

"That would have been most appreciated, Lord Mat," he replied with a slight bow of his head in respect.

Rand studied them. His eyes held a depth in them that Mat had never noticed before. The mind behind them was working overtime. "My Aiel will line up in the centre. They will guard your flank, Galad." He glanced back to where a pair of Maidens stood looking eager. "That should provide the Seanchen with some entertainment." Rand then studied the large group of Aes Sedai and frowned. "I will also be giving you command of my asha'men."

Galad nodded grimly. Whitecloaks despised all things to do with the One Power. Yet, here was a Lord Captain Commander willing to do what was best for the world and not only his precious order. For the first time Mat began to gain a grudging respect for the young Damodred.

The group dispersed, each striding hurriedly to their respective commands. Mat followed Rand. There was of course one thing he could do to stop this battle. He laughed, but even he was not sure if that would work.

"I should leave you now," Mat spoke up and left before anyone really noticed that he had gone.

He had given up his eye to save a woman. He could surely sacrifice more to save a few thousand. The expression on his face was grim. The only solace being that if he succeeded then their army would become a force capable of scaring the pants off Shai'tan himself.

"Well, Matrim Cauthon seems to be the only one capable of anything." He spoke to himself aloud.

The walk to his tent was long. People were running around frantically. He should have run, but he felt something holding him back. Eventually he found his tent exactly were the asha'man had told him it would be. His horse stood outside, unsaddled. The task of preparing the horse went slowly. Despite his growing anxiousness, he moved lethargically. The sound of the dice rolling was almost deafening by now. Eventually, however, the horse was saddled and ready to ride. The last item he needed was his large ashandarei.

Afraid, but ready, he climbed onto the horse. From the higher vantage point he could already make out the various battle lines forming. The disciplined Whitecloaks and Aiel were almost in formation. The Andorans, much less skilled still ambled up the hill. The Seanchen were ignoring them. Despite being the weakest of the three groups, they held the most defensible position. The enemy commander was both skilled and blind. He did the right thing, hence that which was predictable and when the enemy became predicable then he could be destroyed.

Mat studied the battlefield below. The Seanchen appeared to be moving towards the Aiel. Their movements unnaturally slow. Mat felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something did not feel right.

An army that arrived here so quickly could have placed themselves in a more favourable position. The dense lines held only heavy infantry men. A few light cavalry detachments guarded their flanks, but they lacked any substance. They were more a deterrent than an actual fighting force. Far in the rear, Mat barely made out a few small groups of damane.

The entire Seanchen force had a decidedly wrong feel to it. Where was the cavalry, where were the lighter, more mobile infantry? More importantly where were the powerful damane that came with such a force?

His horse grew restless beneath him, as anxious as Mat himself to get to the battle. He pulled back on his reigns and shifted his weight, the horse grew still. He needed to get to that army. Something, a feeling held him back.

That was when his medallion grew cold. Behind him a lone trumpet called out in alarm. Knowing what he would see, he turned slowly. There was no need to curse, he just nodded his head knowingly. Of course, the mobile contingent of the force would strike in the rear once the entire camp's attention had been diverted. Masterful, perhaps the commander was not as predictable as he had thought.

Then again, Mat had known something was wrong.

"Well," Mat said to the horse. "The man might have planned for everything, but he forgot one important thing."

"And that would be?" A voice spoke from beside him.

Mat jumped in his saddle. "Blood and Ashes, Rand! Do you have to sneak up on a man like that?"

Rand chuckled. "Sorry." He grew more serious. "What did their commander forget?"

Mat eyed Rand. "They forgot about me."

Rand chuckled. "You really are full of surprises. For a moment I thought you were going to say that they forget about the Dragon Reborn being in the camp." There was humour in his words, but his voice did not do them justice. "Thanks Mat. I had wished not use any of my power today."

"That won't be necessary, Rand." Mat said with determination. "I am all this camp needs."

Rand eyed him suspiciously, but before more could be said Mat darted off towards the new threat. The spinning of the dice stopped. A chill ran down Mat's spine. Rand followed, but he did not try to stop Mat. With the dice silent, a part of Mat wished that his friend would stop him.

Ahead the force grew in size. Mat could see them as they poured out of gateways. All he needed was a bit of luck. He closed his eye and hoped. When it opened again he knew why the dice had stopped. The banners of the Empress emerged from one of the gateways.

"Time to roll the dice," he said behind gritted teeth and spurred his horse onwards. His course now took him straight to those banners.

GBGBGB

Rand rode hard to keep up with Mat. The man had a death wish, but so did Rand for following his friend. Still, this was what needed to be done. The air around him felt alive, it crackled with intensity. Rand was use to the feeling, but even this surpassed what he had felt before.

Being alone for so long, he had forgotten that Mat and Perrin were ta'veren as well. Both of them were probably as strong as Arthur Hawkwing. Being around one or both them would be severely change the pattern. It might have been his imagination, but if he concentrated hard enough he could almost hear the pattern rearranging around them. He smiled, if he had Mat and Perrin when he attacked the Dark Ones prison.

The thought remained unfinished. They were closing in rapidly on the lines forming ahead of them. Mat did not appear to be slowing down. An unease grew inside Rand. They had to stop. This was the perfect distance to strike.

"Mat!" He called out. The sound of the horses hooves striking the rocky ground was too loud. "We need to stop. I can handle this army from here!"

Mat eased enough just to turn his head towards Rand. His own eye watched Rand intently. He had never thought that the naughty, always fooling around Matrim, could look so serious. "This battle will not end in bloodshed. The people of the world need this army." Then he increased his pace again.

Rand could not argue and he could not stop Mat. Instead he began to laugh at the situation. Here he was, the Dragon Reborn and the most powerful ta'veren ever, being influenced by the ta'veren nature of his best friend. He could not contain his laughter, who would ever believe such a story.

The only sound was that of their racing horses. The Seanchen before them appeared unsure of what to do. Two lone horsemen, charging their lines was unheard of.

Rand studied the line along which they were riding. He gasped, the mad fool was heading straight for the Empress. Something jogged his memory. The meeting with Tuon, the Daughter of the Nine Moons, she had asked about Mat.

He gasped as realisation dawned upon him. Mat knew the Empress. He wanted to swear, but his mouth failed him. He dug his heels into the horse and sped to catch Mat.

They were a just under a hundred paces from the front lines when Mat pulled up on his reigns. The magnificent animal beneath him came to an abrupt halt and Rand had just enough time to stop beside him.

"I hope you have a plan?" He whispered out of breath.

Mat laughed. "A plan? Don't I always have a plan to get myself out of danger."

Rand's childhood friend motioned his horse forwards and he imitated him. Now that they weren't charging, the men before them seemed more at ease. Their bows were still raised in caution.

When they were a mere twenty paces from the front lines, Mat stopped again. The men were fidgeting nervously, still something stayed their hands. It would take only one man to lose his composure to end both their lives. Rand felt a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. It felt odd, he had grown accustomed to not sweating. Mat on the other hand looked calm, almost in control.

Rand could see now why the Band of Red the Hand held Mat in such high esteem. For all his foolery he was one brave soul. The sounder of the horn, one of three ta'veren. What else was this man before him?

Mat stood slightly in his saddle. "Would someone please tell my wife, that her husband is here to see her."

Rand's jaw nearly dropped open. Thankfully, he had embraced the source the moment he realised Mat was going to speak. Of all the things in the world that was the last thing he had thought Mat would say.

The group of soldiers before them who had heard began to laugh. Whispers filtered down the ranks and the laughter began to spread.

Mat sighed. "I mean honestly. Do I look so foolish that not even these men would believe me married. I mean I even had to tell her three times that she was my wife." With an exasperated sigh, he stood in his saddle again. This time his voice boomed with authority. Rand sat transfixed. "Could you tell the idiot in command that the Prince of Ravens is here."

The laughter died down abruptly. The men began to shuffle about anxiously. Rand's saidin enhanced eyes darted towards the ashandarei that Mat held. The ravens etched into it nearly jumped out at him. Who was Mat and what was the Prince of Ravens?"

A horseman bolted from the rear of the line towards where the Empress had to be. The men before them, however, did not move nor say a word. Except now, they seemed to be having trouble looking at them. Each man appeared unsure if he should be watching or not.

A minute later a large group of horses came down from the rear. At the front, Rand could clearly make out the dress that marked the Empress.

Men parted like a wave as soon as she neared their dense ranks. No one spoke, each no doubt fearful of what might occur.

Eventually the procession cleared the line of soldiers. At the front was the small woman Rand had talked to. Tuon. Rand glanced between Mat and the woman. They seemed to have eyes only for one another.

She raised a hand and her escort halted. The men did not look pleased, but the obeyed like the elite soldiers they were. Even from this distance, Rand could see Herons on the hilts of fours of the eight bodyguards. The other four might not be that far off, or perhaps they had just not earned a sword yet. Rand wanted to reach for his blade, but he knew that could cause problems.

Mat motioned for Rand to stay back as he rode towards what Rand could only assume to be his wife. "He's married to the Seanchen Empress," he breathed out in disbelieve.

"What happened to your eye?" She asked in concern. Despite the distance Rand could still hear them clearly.

Mat shrugged at the question. "Just helping another poor soul."

Away from her people, Rand began to see the woman behind the façade. Their was a loving look in her eyes and a laugh was never far from her voice. "I've missed you," Mat whispered. "I think of you whenever I have a moment to myself."

They continued to speak for a few minutes. The quiet banter amused Rand. Eventually, however, she held up a hand before she grew more serious. "What is the meaning of you charging down upon us? We have a battle to win."

"I came to stop this fight. The battle against the Dark One is upon us and we need all the strength we have. We need the Seanchen and we cannot afford to fight against each other."

She glanced at Rand for the first time and recoiled suddenly. Then her gaze hardened. She trotted her horse towards him.

"An honour to meet you again, Empress." Rand bowed in respect from his saddle. A woman suddenly came from out of the group.

"Away with you," Tuon said with her strange accent and the woman, looking completely perplexed fell back. The looks on the eyes of the soldiers indicated that something out of the ordinary was happening. Does she never talk to people, he wandered?

"You seem different," she began once they were alone.

"Much has changed since then, Empress." He spoke with respect, his eyes averted. "What will it take for you to forgive me an ally yourself to us?"

She remained still. He did not, however, look up. The way the soldiers avoided looking at Mat indicated that people were not supposed to look at nobles. "Swear fealty to the Nine Moons, bind yourself to us."

Rand stiffened, the prophecies stated that she would bind herself to him. "I fear that I must ask the same of you, Empress." He could hear her tense as he spoke. "I must lead these people to victory. The world is at peril and I am its last hope."

Mat moved closer. "Bloody stiff backed fools," he grumbled in annoyance. "Why don't you both swear to service to me and then I will decide what is best."

Rand expected an outburst from the Empress. None came. "I am a friend of Rand, yes. I am also the Prince of Ravens, husband of the Empress." He glance at his wife. "May she live forever." She gave a quiet laugh. "Who better to serve the interests of both?"

"I shall agree to this, if you do," Rand was the first to speak.

"As shall I," she agreed at last.

"Together then," Mat spoke. "I, name, swear fealty to Matrim Cauthon, Prince of Ravens."

The both spoke together.

"I, Rand Al'Thor, swear…"

"I, Fortuona, swear…"

When they words were done the world seemed to relax. The pattern aligned itself and he could feel his ta'veren influence slip a little. The sensation had been so constant since he began the charge with Mat that he had forgotten it was even there.

The whole situation felt surreal. He was bound to the Nine Moons and to a degree the Nine Moons was bound to him. The prophecy had been right and wrong.

"The prophecies have failed," she sighed tiredly. "I always thought you would be bound to the Empire and now I find myself bound to you as much as you are bound to me."

Rand sat straighter in his saddle. "Our prophecies state that you will be bound to me." Then he began to laugh.

"They were both right then," Mat said from beside him. "Or both were wrong." His tone quieted Rand. "Now I order both of you to stop this squabbling."

The Empress called over that same woman that tried to come earlier. She sent her a few hand signals. The lady seemed surprised, but she disappeared with the new orders.

A few moments later the entire army became more relaxed.

"I best leave you two love birds, while I make sure our armies comply."

"Thank you, Rand Al'Thor," The Empress spoke. "I am sorry that things have gone this far."

Rand stopped. "And I am sorry for trying to compel you last time we met. You are a much stronger woman than I ever would have imagined. Perhaps you are strong enough to handle Matrim."

"Of that I most definitely am, Lord Dragon."

"Get over yourself," Mat sulked and Rand grinned. Perhaps she did have a way of taming the man.

She laughed huskily. The last thing Rand heard as he travelled away was. "I swore fealty as Empress. Nothing was ever mentioned of my role as your wife."

Mat cursed and Rand shook his head laughing at Mat.

As he opened the gateway Rand trembled.

Old words came back to him. 'The North and the South must be one.' And with Mat holding the allegiance of the two most powerful entities in the world, the world had truly become one. He thought some more. 'The two must become one,' that could only mean his full acceptance of Lewis Thelamon. That had happened.

Only one line remained unfulfilled. 'East and west must become one.' This line baffled him still, he felt certain that it meant the combining of the male and female halves, more precisely the working together of men and women who could channel. He was almost there, all he needed now was for Egwene to work with him.

For the first time in a long while he actually began to believe that he could win

_A/N Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Will try to get the next one up soon. Please leave your thoughts, it will only take a second or two and they help to give inspiration. So any comments or wishes are greatly appreciated.  
_

_Any ideas, should I jump to Caemlyn or perhaps spend another chapter trying to sort out the battle? I was thinking having Galad POV commanding his forces and asha'man in a heated battle before Rand arrives to put an end to the fighting. Then perhaps another Rand Egwene show down. What do you think?_

Ok, so the one reviewer thought this total rubbish and unbelievable. He could be right, but my whole idea behind this was that two ta'veren like them would change 'normal' drastically. So the question is, do you think this chapter needs a total rewrite?


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